How the National Anthem Turned Into a Blackhawks Rallying Cry

Blackhawks fans cheering during the national anthem at United Center last year.Credit
Jonathan Daniel/Getty Images

CHICAGO — Before Game 1 of the Stanley Cup finals Wednesday night at United Center, the visiting Boston Bruins will be treated to one of the loudest and most venerable traditions in hockey: the cheers during the national anthem before a Blackhawks game.

The red carpet will be rolled out, the home patrons will stand, and Jim Cornelison will begin belting out “The Star-Spangled Banner” in his operatic tenor. But instead of respectful silence, the fans’ accompaniment will be reverential noise: clapping and cheering for a good minute and a half until the anthem is done.

This has become a familiar scene in the hockey world, but the origins are hazy. Wayne Messmer, who sang the anthem at Blackhawks games from 1980 to 1994, said he thought the seeds were planted during the Western Conference finals against the Vancouver Canucks in 1982, when fans started to cheer during the last eight bars or so of the anthem.

But the tradition seems to have truly arrived on May 9, 1985, before Game 3 of the conference finals against Wayne Gretzky’s Edmonton Oilers.

The Oilers, a juggernaut on their way to a second consecutive Stanley Cup in a run that would include five championships in seven years, had beaten the overmatched Blackhawks by scores of 11-2 and 7-3 in Games 1 and 2 in Edmonton.

The Oilers had future Hall of Famers up and down its roster — Gretzky, Mark Messier, Paul Coffey and Grant Fuhr among them. They entered Game 3 on a record 12-game winning streak in the playoffs.

“Coming back from Edmonton down, 0-2, we didn’t want to throw in the towel,” Messmer said. “It was like we’re going to go nuts and do everything we can to make sure this season doesn’t end.”

Former players and reporters who covered the series recalled that during the renditions of “The Star-Spangled Banner” at Edmonton, Oilers fans made enough noise that the American team noticed.

Troy Murray, then a member of the Blackhawks and now a radio announcer for the team, called the commotion a “slight to the anthem.”

Coffey insisted that no malice had been intended, saying the fans “might have been inadvertently and prematurely getting into the game.”

Whether or not it was antagonistic, the series deficit, the long comeback odds and the perceived slight added to the buzz of an already notoriously raucous Chicago Stadium crowd. When the Blackhawks took the ice for Game 3, the fans were giddy.

Eddie Olczyk, another member of the Blackhawks and now a commentator, said he sensed a palpable intensity when he skated during warm-ups. He looked into the stands and saw the legendary Bears running back Gale Sayers.

Coffey said, “There’s five of us standing there on the blue line, and it’s loud and getting louder, and we’re looking at each other thinking this is pretty cool.”

The Blackhawks won Game 3, 5-2. When Messmer sang the anthem ahead of Game 4 three nights later, the fans were back at it. The Blackhawks won again, evening the series.

Chicago went on to lose Games 5 and 6, but the next season, fans continued to cheer when Messmer sang the anthem, and the practice stuck.

“It was so emotionally stirring that people wanted to keep it going,” Messmer said.

The custom gained national fame several years later when the 1991 All-Star Game was played in Chicago on Jan. 19, three days after President George H. W. Bush announced the attacks that began the Persian Gulf war.

When Messmer sang that day, cameras panned across the crowd capturing American and Canadian flags and inspirational messages to the troops. The noise was deafening.

Frank Pellico, the organist who has accompanied the anthem since 1991, said, “I was playing the organ two feet from Wayne, but couldn’t hear him.”

Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf Jr. was so taken with the show of patriotism that he had a copy of the tape shown to soldiers overseas during the war.

The anthem tradition carried over when United Center replaced Chicago Stadium in 1994, even though a digital organ replaced the original, which was the largest of its kind in the world. Messmer was replaced as the anthem singer by a string of singers from Chicago’s Lyric Opera, and now Cornelison has the nightly honor.